


Collecting Memories

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: Home and Family [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Family, Ficlet Collection, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Healing, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1683992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you've lost 70 years of your lives, every second is precious. Moments in the lives of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.</p><p>(AKA fluffy and angsty Steve/Bucky oneshots)</p><p>1. Goodbye and Hello<br/>2. Touch<br/>3. Truth<br/>4. Aim<br/>5. You<br/>6. Boom<br/>7. Possibilities<br/>8. The Scientific Spark<br/>9. Whisper of Memory<br/>10. Poolside<br/>11. Old Men<br/>12. Gray Days<br/>13. Play Dates</p><p>(List will be updated as chapters are added)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Goodbye and Hello

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you fitting these into the larger timeline, this is set between chapters two and three of "Home Is Where You Are." If you haven't read that, it should still make sense on its own (but go read it anyway. It's a nice little fic.)

Word had gotten around that Captain America was back in D.C., and there were plenty of government officials who wanted to have a word with him. Though so far the damage had limited itself to a couple of increasingly tense phone calls, it was becoming more and more clear that it was time for he and Bucky to leave again.

Mostly, Steve was looking forward to it – it would give Bucky the chance to heal without any outside stressors, and it would make Steve’s utter unwillingness to be more than three feet away from him seem slightly less odd.  Also, it would make it harder for any HYDRA agents to track them.

There was one thing, though, that he had to do first.

000

Steve stopped just outside the doorway to Peggy’s room, safely out of view. He’d been tense since he’d walked through the nursing home’s front doors, and he let out a breath as he tried hard to relax his shoulders. “You really can come in, if you want. I think she’d like to see you.”

Bucky, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, shook his head. “I don’t remember her, and I doubt she remembers me.” He watched Steve’s face as if he was looking for something. “You could have left me with Sam. I wouldn’t have … done anything.”

“I never thought you would have,” Steve said quickly, needing to reassure. That was the last thing he wanted Bucky to think. “I just … I wanted you to be here.”

He saw the wary confusion in Bucky’s eyes. “I don’t understand why.”

Steve hesitated, hand still lingering on Bucky’s shoulder. It had been selfish to make him come, Steve knew, and he wondered if it would be even more selfish to tell him why. Sorting out his own emotions was complicated enough for Bucky. He didn’t need to deal with Steve’s, too.

Bucky’s face went too blank. “You don’t have to tell me,” he said carefully, clearly withdrawing even though he hadn’t moved a muscle.

That made Steve’s decision for him. Giving in to his own need for it, he pulled Bucky into a hug. “I didn’t want to do this alone,” he murmured in Bucky’s ear, throat already tightening with what he knew was coming.

Slowly, though not as slowly as before, Bucky’s arms came up around him. “Okay,” he said finally, something almost like wonder in his voice. 

Steve moved back, taking another deep breath. “Thank you.”

Tentatively, Bucky nodded. “Go. I’ll be here.”

Steve made sure he had a smile on his face when he stepped into Peggy’s room. She focused on him the moment he came into view, her smile mercifully free of any confusion. “I heard voices outside. I thought it was the nurses, but you’re a much better surprise.” Slowly, she gestured to his usual chair. “Sit. I’ve heard your name whispered about among the staff.”

He gave her his “aw shucks” smile. “Just ran into a little trouble.” He was resolved not to tell her any of the truth about SHIELD, and had already had a quiet word with the nurses to double-check that they hadn’t, either. Knowing would only hurt her. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

She gave him a fond, faintly exasperated look, as if he were a beloved grandson who had a tendency to misbehave. “You look altogether too cheerful about being in trouble.”

“Actually, that’s something else.” His voice softened as he reached over and took her hand. He could admit that Sam and Bucky had probably been right, and her knowing about Bucky would be confusion she didn’t need.

But she had been there for him, as much as she could, when he hadn’t had anyone else. She’d genuinely wanted him to be as happy as she had been. She deserved to know he was finally going to get that chance. “I think I’m finally ready to go live that life I never got.”

“Oh, Steve, that’s wonderful.” Peggy squeezed his hand as best she could. Her eyes sparkled. “You’ve met someone, haven’t you?”

He couldn’t stop the grin. “You could say that.” Then, remembering what else he’d come here to say, his expression sobered. “I have to leave D.C. for awhile.”

“And you know I probably won’t be here when you get back,” she finished, voice kind. Though her eyes were wet, they still shone. “So you were sweet enough to come say goodbye.”

He felt his throat close up again. “I’m so sorry, Peggy.”

“Hush. As much as I love seeing you, it’s past time for this.” She patted their joined hands with a smile. “Go. Be happy. Rest assured, Captain, I will be watching you when I get upstairs to make absolutely sure you follow my instructions.”

“I will.” Steve blinked back tears. Her friendship had been so important to him, these last few years. “You’ll always be my best girl.”

“Don’t let your new girl hear you saying such nonsense.” Even as she spoke, though, he could see the awareness fading from her eyes. “Steve?” she asked, already sounding further away. “Why aren’t you in uniform?”

He swallowed, swiping at his eyes with his free hand. “I was just about to change into it.”

“Well, you’d better go do it then. No way of knowing when you’ll get called out on your next mission.” She patted his hand again, then let him go. “Bad enough for me to be caught abed.”

“Goodbye, Peggy. Thank you.” Giving her hand one last squeeze, he stood. “For everything.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” She smiled at him, but it was different now. One of the brightest, most vivid women he’d ever known had slipped back into the fog. “You’ll see me soon.”

Steve had to wipe his eyes again. “Of course I will.”

His cheeks were wet as he left the room. Bucky was waiting in the hallway, just like he’d said, and Steve hesitated a moment to try and collect himself. Bucky hesitated as well, watching Steve’s face, then slowly held his arms out.

Steve, giving up any attempt at being strong, made a beeline for him. As Bucky wrapped his arms around him, Steve pressed his face against the hoodie. “Sorry,” he whispered, holding on for dear life.

“Don’t be sorry,” Bucky said quietly, tightening the hug to match Steve’s own grip. “I’m glad I’m here.”

“Glad” was a grossly inadequate word for what Steve felt about the matter. It didn’t matter that Bucky only remembered pieces, that he might not ever remember even half of the years they’d had together. Having him close was what made everything else possible, and when he’d been gone there was nothing else that could ever hope to fill the hole.  He couldn’t imagine how painful this would have been without Bucky here.

But he couldn’t say that, so he just closed his eyes. “Me too, Buck,” he whispered. “Me, too.”


	2. Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's about the surgery to get more sensation in Bucky's cybernetic arm that I mentioned as a possibility in "Reaching Out." It's set about a month or so after that fic ends.

"Remember, just look at me," Steve said soothingly, enunciating carefully enough that the surgical mask he was wearing didn't muffle the words. He squeezed Bucky's hand. "I know it's probably boring you silly by now, but it's the only face I've got."

Bucky squeezed back, concentrating on the warmth radiating from underneath the plastic gloves rather than the fact that he could no longer feel even the dulled signals he used to get from his cybernetic arm. From the collarbone down, it was like there was nothing there at all. "Somebody's fishing for compliments." His voice was scratchy, eyes fixed on Steve's face.

Steve smiled, his eyes making the expression obvious even with the mask. "You caught me."

"You want JARVIS to pipe in some romantic background music?" Tony asked from outside Bucky's field of vision. He and Bruce were working on his cybernetic arm, performing the neural connection re-map that they hoped would give him more sensation. "I don't have any Taylor Swift in the system, but he'd get some just for you."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "I could have sworn I heard you humming '22' when—"

"Bruce, the Capsicle's picking on me."

"Children." Bucky heard the smile in Bruce's voice. "Behave."

The corners of Bucky's own mouth curved upward a little. "Bet you didn't think you'd be adopting a hyperactive genius and two incredibly attractive senior citizens."

"I wouldn't say I've adopted you. I consider myself more of a long-suffering uncle who somehow got talked into babysitting."

"Hey, I'm still offended that Rogers merited 'incredibly attractive' and I didn't."

Steve grinned. "What can I say? Bucky's always had good taste."

They had offered to put him under – not an easy thing for someone with a bastardized version of the Super Soldier Serum in their veins, but Bruce had whipped up an entire collection of chemicals meant to contain or restrain his other half.

But the thought of being put under brought back every half-remembered flash of when they'd wiped and froze him. As much as he didn't want to see what was going on with his arm right now – nerve endings exposed, electrodes embedded into skin – he'd rather risk it a thousand times over than go back to that feeling of the world slipping away from him at someone else’s command.

"Hey, Buck." Steve squeezed his hand again. "Come back from wherever you were. It's no fun teasing Tony without you."

Bucky let out a long breath. "There's plenty of time for that. Just ... talk to me, okay?"

"Okay." Steve nodded, voice warm. "Did I ever tell you the story...."

Bucky let the sound of his best friend's voice wash over him as Tony and Bruce worked, the warmth of Steve's hand in his an anchor against any memory that might threaten. No matter what wonders the two men could perform on his arm – Tony had started talking about a complete upgrade – it still wouldn't ever feel quite like this.

Eight or nine stories later – he was pretty sure the last few had been completely made up – he felt the gentle jostling that meant they were re-attaching the arm into the rim embedded into his shoulder. Then he heard Tony flip a few switches as Bruce stepped into his field of vision. "We've shut the IV off, but there's still enough in your system that it might take a half hour for even your heightened nerves to re-set themselves." His voice was gentle as he held up the needle. "This should speed up the process, if you're interested."

When Bucky nodded, Bruce carefully administered the injection. Then he pulled off his mask and gloves, looking cautiously optimistic. "When you're ready, we'll see how much of an increase you were able to gain in sensory input."

Tony waggled his eyebrows as he pulled off his own mask. "And then we'll leave you alone for a few hours while you fully test out that sensory input with our good Captain, here."

Bucky was smiling as he shook his head. "I'd settle for him just taking off his mask so I could kiss him properly."

"Done." Steve pulled it off, leaning forward for a warm, buzzy kiss. Then he helped Bucky sit up. "How are you feeling?"

Carefully, Bucky flexed his fingers, watching as they stiffly obeyed him. The entire arm ached a little in a way it hadn't before, and Bucky wanted to take that as a good sign. "I want to make sure the numbing agent is completely gone before I try it."

"If it doesn't work, this isn't necessarily the end," Bruce said kindly. "This was the simplest procedure, but there are other options we can try."

"And once we go through those, we'll whip up a few more," Tony chipped in. "So stop worrying and touch your damn boyfriend. The suspense is killing me."

Bucky took a deep breath, flexing his fingers one more time. "It's okay if this doesn't work," he said, turning to look at Steve. "I'm just grateful I can touch you at all."

 "Same with me," Steve said quietly, smiling a little as he reached over and wrapped his hand around Bucky's metal one.

For a second, Bucky could only sense pressure, and he clamped down hard on the spike of disappointment. Then, slowly, he felt the warmth soak in, and he had to swallow against the tightening in his throat.

Steve, his own eyes a little damp, carefully skimmed his fingers along the inside of his metal wrist. "What does that feel like?"

Bucky let out a shaky breath. "It ... it tingles." Something that felt suspiciously like a laugh bubbled out of his throat. "It's warm, too. You're so warm."

"And I believe that's our cue to exit," Tony announced, sounding a little emotional himself. "Come on, Bruce. We can either play in the lab downstairs, or you can man up and finally let me get you into the pool."

Bruce smiled. "I vote for the lab."

Tony sighed theatrically. "I knew you'd say that."

Bucky swallowed again. "Wait." He pushed himself off the table, following them to the door. When they turned around, he threw his arms around both of them. "Thank you." His voice sounded like sandpaper, but no one seemed to mind. "Both of you."

Bruce was frozen for a moment, startled, then relaxed into the hug. "You're very welcome."

"This is probably the most surprising group hug I've ever been in, and that includes the triplet acrobats," Tony joked, squeezing harder than any of them. "I like it."

After they left, he turned back around to see Steve watching him with shining eyes. Bucky crossed the room to kiss him, both of his hands sliding under the edge of Steve's t-shirt so he could enjoy the heat.

 When they broke apart, Steve smiled at him. "So, should we go test out that new arm of yours?" he murmured.

Bucky grinned. "That sounds like a genius idea."


	3. Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set immediately after "Reaching Out" ends.

This was how they slept now, Bucky's head tucked up against Steve's shoulder and his real arm sprawled across his chest. Bucky's bones weren't as dense as Steve's, and it made sure he didn't feel trapped even in his nightmares.

The bed Tony had let them use was too soft, but Bucky could make even a marshmallow feel just right. He lightly traced the shield Bucky had asked Tony to paint on his cybernetic arm, feeling luckier than he'd ever imagined he could.

Bucky shifted, nuzzling his cheek against Steve’s collarbone. "At dinner, before Pepper started talking about clones," he murmured, sounding not nearly as tired as he should have. They still didn't sleep much, but they never passed up a chance to cuddle. "How'd you con Stark into thinking you don't lie?"

Steve smiled. Bucky had never believed the whole "Captain America" routine. "I'm not very good at it, apparently. Better if I don't try."

Bucky pushed himself up on his elbow, looking down at Steve with a raised eyebrow. "Way I remember it, you used to lie me all the time."

Steve tapped a finger against the center of his best friend’s chest. "Name one."

The corners of Bucky's mouth curved up as he started off the count. "All those times you said you felt fine, seconds after you tried to cough up a lung. Telling me you were gonna catch up that last night I was in New York, when we both knew damn well you wouldn't. I could go on, even though I'm sure I don't remember them all."

"Fine." Steve groaned, tugging Bucky back toward him again. "I haven't lied to you since you came back."

Bucky braced himself, the smile edging into a definite smirk. "So you would have been fine if I'd gone out with the gal at the Village Inn."

Steve closed his eyes, huffing out a laugh. "Okay, I _mostly_ haven't lied to you."

Bucky bent his head, his lips against his neck. "That one, I wasn't sure," he murmured, the words quiet and oddly solemn. Then he grinned against Steve's skin. "All the other times, though, you're right. You _are_ a really bad liar."

Steve opened his eyes, voice light even as his chest tightened with emotion. "And when we meet up with Clint and Natasha, you and she can have a nice, long talk mocking me for it."

"I'm looking forward to it, actually." Bucky lifted his head again, expression soft and amused. "I was wondering why, though. You had to know I'd see right through you, but you still kept at it."

Steve sighed, smoothing a hand along the slope of Bucky's cheek. He'd always known how much harder he'd made Bucky's life, back in those days, but he'd needed him too much to let him go. "I hated worrying you."

"You dope." Bucky just shook his head. "I was gonna worry about you no matter what you said."

"I know." Steve smiled a little, remembering all the HYDRA soldiers just outside of his field of vision that would suddenly drop just before they could try something. Captain America had been lucky enough to share Steve Rogers' guardian angel. "Even after the Super Soldier Serum."

Bucky's mouth quirked, his expression reminding Steve of the night they formed the Commandos. "Hey, being bigger just meant you could get into more trouble."

_Or I could get you into more trouble_. He smoothed a hand along Bucky's metal arm, the thought slicing along with that edge of guilt that never really left him. Maybe he should see that therapist, like Sam said. "I never understood why," he said softly.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "You get into trouble?" he asked, amused. "Well, for one thing, you have no sense of self-preservation."

Steve smiled a little as he shook his head. "No." His expression sobered, emotion making his voice thick. "I mean why you cared so much about a skinny little punk like me."

Bucky blinked at him, clearly stunned, then made a sound that might have been a laugh as he leaned his forehead against Steve's. "Guess I didn't take all the stupid in this relationship."

"I'm serious." Steve swallowed, his throat tight with too much emotion. "I wouldn't have made it without you."

Bucky pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowed. "It's not your fault you were sick all the time."

"That's not what I mean, though I owe you for that, too." Steve's voice was scratchy as he slid his fingers through Bucky's hair. He remembered all those times when they huddled close on the couch cushions, spinning elaborate fantasies for the future they'd known they'd never be able to pull off. The details had never really been important, only that they would be together.

Even back then, he'd known that any future worth anything had to have Bucky in it.

"No matter what happened to me, I always knew there were good things in the world. You were my good things." He smiled a little. "You still are."

Bucky blinked hard, his eyes wet. "Then you got cheated," he whispered.

Steve's smile widened. He thought he'd needed to find a girl, because he'd thought Bucky would one day find one and he didn't want to be a burden. If things had been different, he could have had a happy life with Peggy.

But only if Bucky had been right next door. And only because he would have never known what he was missing.

"This is why you should never gamble," Steve murmured, pulling Bucky down for a kiss. "You don't know luck when you see it."


	4. Aim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set during the preparations for the Nevada mission mentioned at the end of "Reaching Out."

There was no strain in Bucky's muscles as he held the gun, as if this was the position where they felt most at ease. The month and a half where he hadn't touched a weapon was nothing in the face of the 70 years where he'd essentially _been_ a weapon, and old instincts he'd tried so hard to fight flowed back with no resistance. It would be the simplest thing to twitch the trigger, put a hole precisely through the two "e"s on the sign. It was a simpler shot than the one he'd taken in Kiev, that narrow space between the iron bars that had been meant to protect the target. He'd stayed long enough to watch the body fall, the shattered window the only evidence he'd been there at all....

Bucky wrenched himself free of the memory, finger spasming against the trigger and sending a wild shot through the top edge of the sign. He stared at the ragged hole in horror, then squeezed his eyes shut and tried hard not to hyperventilate. "I can't do this, Clint."

"Fine. Then you'll have to use the codename Super Punching Man. Either that or Bucky Tyson, and if you go with that be prepared for a lifetime of ear jokes from Stark."

Bucky opened his eyes, the sheer calmness in Clint's voice making it easier to get his own breathing under control. "I'm sure that would be hilarious if I understood what you were talking about."

They were out in the middle of nowhere, the only trace of civilization an old "Keep Out" sign with a rusted bit of barbed wire wrapped around its base. He thought Steve probably would have appreciated the irony, but both he and Natasha had been very deliberately left back at the motel. He could shame himself in front of Clint, but he couldn't stand the thought of worrying Steve.

"See, this is why it's my solemn duty to bring all your cultural references up to date. You need to understand just how funny I am." Then Clint's expression sobered. "And yes, you can. It's hell, but you'll never get to the second time if you don't get through the first."

"Who's to say the second time will be any different?" Bucky's voice was flat as he flipped the handgun around, holding it out to Clint butt first. "I was a monster a hell of a lot longer than I wasn't. The fact that I'm getting back in the fight is no excuse to give him his claws back."

Clint kept his arms folded across his chest. "What if it's the only thing that would save Steve's life?"

Bucky narrowed his eyes, accepting the well-aimed hit. "Then you'd better be as good a shot as you say you are, hooy morzhovy."

Clint's grin flashed. "Why thank you. Some of those are quite large."

Bucky's glare turned into a scowl as he held the gun out more forcefully. "You think I won't be able to watch everyone's back without a gun in my hand?"

Clint's expression went serious again. "No. I don't want to watch someone I can actually stand to be around give up a part of themselves to the bastards who tried to break him."

"They did break me, and then they put me back together exactly like they wanted." Bucky held Clint's gaze, his voice hard. He was certain he could be more terrifying than this, and as frustrating as it was there was something oddly comforting about the fact that Clint couldn't be less intimidated.

It eased something inside his chest as he pushed the gun a little closer. "This is one of their pieces." The words were quieter, asking for understanding. "The most good I can do is to let it stay dead."

Clint's expression gentled. "Why are you holding the gun out to me like that?"

Bucky's brow furrowed, confused and annoyed again. "Because I want you to take it back, opesdol."

The corner of Clint's mouth flickered upward. "No, genius. I meant why are you holding it out to me butt first?"

Bucky blinked, looking down at the gun in his hand. "Because..." He checked his memories, but the movement had been so automatic he hadn't thought about it. It took a second for him to think it through enough to put the reason into words. "You don't ever point a gun at someone you don't want to shoot. First rule of firearm safety."

Clint's smile grew. "I can't imagine the Winter Soldier ever giving a shit about firearm safety."

Bucky's eyes widened as he realized what the other man was trying to say. He swallowed, staring down at the gun. "No." The word was a rasp. "There were always more bullets." 

"But a soldier, especially the Howling Commandos' kick-ass sniper? That sort of thing would be second nature." Clint's voice was gentle as he wrapped his hand around Bucky's, carefully pushing the gun back towards him. "From what I read, you were damn good. More importantly, there was a time when having a gun in your hand meant you were protecting people."

Bucky closed his eyes, seeing flashes of HYDRA agents through a sniper scope. He knew, with a knowledge that wasn't quite memory, that they'd been going after Steve or one of the other Commandos. He'd taken them out before they could even get close to his guys.

Clint could read the change in Bucky's face. "This was a part of _you_ , not just the Winter Soldier. Don't let them take that."

Bucky opened his eyes again, letting out a long breath. "Fine." The faith people insisted on having in him would probably end up killing him, one of these days. "But you'd better stay behind me. I wouldn't want to piss off Natasha by injuring you."

Clint grinned. "See? I knew you were a wise man."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: If you're curious, "hooy morzhovy" means "walrus dick" in Russian. “Opesdol” means “dumbass.” (All my Russian translations are strictly Google, and if anyone can improve on them please let me know.)


	5. You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set sometime during the last part of "Home Is Where You Are," after Steve and Bucky have kissed for the first time.

Bucky looked at the SHIELD-HYDRA files sometimes, accessing them through their Wikileaks archives on his cell phone. Steve hated it every time – Bucky's face was always absolutely blank as he read, the one wall that Steve for all his strength couldn’t just smash through. He knew for a fact that neither Bucky or the Winter Soldier were in the files – only a few mentions of an "asset," all attached to horrors – but what _was_ in there clearly hurt Bucky to read.

At times, he wants to stop Bucky's pain so badly that he's tempted to yank the phone out of his hand and smash it, forbid him from going back and injuring himself over and over again on other people's crimes. But he can't. In the end, it's Bucky's choice, and he'll be damned if he takes that away from his best friend again.

So he waits, and he worries. And he's oh so grateful that it only happens sometimes.

000

He could tell Bucky was at it again, stretched out flat on the motel room bed with that awful blank expression on his face. Steve was next to him, attempting to read a biography of Jimmy Carter that he'd picked up, but his attention was so focused on Bucky that he'd spent the last 10 minutes trying to get through a single paragraph.

Finally, Bucky set his phone facedown against his chest with a sigh that sounded far too tired. He closed his eyes, and Steve gratefully set down the book and turned his attention to his best friend. "You know you can talk to me, right?" he said quietly, smoothing his hand over Bucky's hair. "You don't have to. But you can, if you want."

Bucky opened his eyes, looking up at Steve with a searching expression. Then he pressed his lips together and shook his head slightly, looking almost apologetic. "No. I can't do that to you."

Steve's heart ached. "You've gotta let me watch your back, Buck." His voice was rough. "Even for stuff like this."

Instead of responding, Bucky grabbed Steve's hand and pressed a kiss against the palm. When he laid their joined hands against his chest, Steve shifted his grip only enough to thread their fingers together.

Slowly, Bucky smiled. "No," he said finally.

Steve blinked, surprised, then he felt the corners of his own mouth curve upward. "Jerk."

For just a moment, Bucky's smile widened. "Exactly." Then his expression sobered. "I do have one question, though. You don't have to answer it if you don't want to, but I've wondered about it the last few days."

Steve nodded, bracing himself for whatever was coming. He still remembered the question Bucky had asked about why Steve had agreed to the Super Soldier Serum, and he hoped fiercely that it was something that simple. No matter what it was, though, he wouldn't back down from it. "You can ask me anything, Buck."

Bucky hesitated a moment, as if trying to figure out the best way to phrase the question, then shifted his gaze back to Steve. "How did you know it was me?" he asked, voice soft.

Ah, the fight. It was a recent enough memory that Steve had just assumed it had already come back. "You'd lost your glasses at some point, then I ripped your face mask off while we were fighting. After that, it was obvious."

Bucky's mouth quirked upward, the expression a little too haunted to be called a smile.  “Really? You had no reason to think I’d survived the fall. I hadn’t aged, I didn’t recognize you, and you live in a world where you had to fight _aliens_ once. You know some of the stuff SHIELD has worked on over the years, let alone HYDRA.”

Steve’s brow lowered. He’d skimmed the files himself, needing to know. It hadn’t been a pleasant night. “I do.”

“There are at least a dozen different ways to make a bad guy that had my face but wasn’t me at all.” Sounding almost chiding now, Bucky sat up without letting go of Steve’s hand. “And you’re smart enough to have thought of at least half of them without even needing to see the files. So you had damn well better tell me you had more to go on than my face before you stayed in a crashing helicarrier to save a killer’s life.”

Steve didn’t say anything, not sure how to explain. Bucky watched him intently, clearly waiting for an answer, and when none came something close to horror flashed across his face. “Steve,” he breathed. “You can’t be serious….”

Steve met Bucky’s eyes, tightening his hold on his best friend’s hand. “I didn’t even let myself think about the fact that it might not be you,” he said quietly, voice rough. “Once I saw even the smallest chance that I could get you back, nothing else mattered.”

He’d had nightmares about the other possibilities, after, his subconscious turning over each and every horrifying option after he’d closed his eyes. But the nightmares had only come after he’d read the file, after he’d known that his faith had been correct. Before, they hadn’t even crossed his mind.

He’d needed Bucky back so badly he’d been willing to believe anything.

Bucky was still staring at him, eyes wide. Finally, he let go of Steve’s hand only to yank the rest of him close. “Dyrmó,” he whispered, pressing his face against Steve’s neck. “How you survived the last two years, I’ll never know.”

Steve closed his eyes, holding on tight. “Dumb luck, probably.”

Bucky actually chuckled at that, the sound only a little wild. “Good.” Then he swallowed, squeezing him harder. “Insight was my replacement, you know. If I’d gone back after that last mission, they would have killed me.”

Steve pulled back just far enough to stare at Bucky. “They couldn’t have,” he breathed, feeling sick at even the possibility. “They were on the run.”

“All the more reason.” Bucky sounded way too damn calm about this. “Easiest way not to leave evidence behind.” Steve just kept staring, too horrified to even form words, and Bucky gave that same wild chuckle and pulled him close again. “Now you know how I feel right now.”

Arms locked around Bucky, Steve reminded himself to breathe. “No more terrifying revelations for tonight, okay?” he managed finally.

Bucky nodded without letting go at all. “I like this plan.”


	6. Boom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is set in the immediate aftermath of our crew taking care of the HYDRA base in Nevada.

They sat down – or more accurately, collapsed in a sitting position – to watch the explosion.

"You got the files, right?" Steve asked, still breathing hard. Though he was looking at Natasha, he reached out blindly to wrap a hand around his best friend's leg. Bucky let himself tip sideways so that his head rested on Steve's shoulder, and he felt Steve relax ever so slightly. "Please tell me you got the files."

"I'm offended that you even asked me that question, Rogers." There was a cut above Natasha's eye, and half of her face was smeared with soot, but her voice was as easy as if they'd been doing nothing more strenuous than jogging. "I always get the files."

Clint, who had decided the view wasn't nearly as important as being horizontal, held up a finger. "Well, there was that time in—"

"I will hurt you if you finish that sentence."

Even though he didn't have the energy to lift his head again, Bucky could still hear the leer in Clint's voice. "Promises, promises."

Bucky watched the flames, trying to figure out what it was he was feeling. He had always felt cold when he was fighting, at least as far as he remembered – and there had been plenty of times at the research station when he'd felt the chill come back. Emotion washed out of him, and there was nothing but the mechanics of destroying his enemies as quickly and efficiently as possible.

But then he'd see a HYDRA soldier get too close to Steve, Clint or Natasha, making worry slice through the cold even as he eliminated the threat. Someone would make a joke – they all had different senses of humor, though not one of them were actually funny – and Bucky would find himself smiling even as he punched someone in the head. Life kept getting tangled up with the death, and he was starting to realize that it would be like that for the rest of his life. It was disorienting.

It was wonderful.

Steve turned toward him, breath ghosting lightly over Bucky's forehead. "You okay?" he asked softly. When Bucky nodded, not quite sure he was ready to talk yet, Steve squeezed his leg and shifted his attention back to the others. "What now?"

Natasha, clearly having decided Bucky was on the right track, shifted so she could lay her head on Barton's stomach and still watch the fiery aftermath. "We check the files, find all the other HYDRA research facilities the scientists here were in contact with."

"Then we blow them up," Clint added, lifting a hand just far enough to pet her hair. She let him, which was all the proof anyone should ever need that she was crazy about the man.

Then came a stretch of silence, broken only by the crackle of flames and a crashing sound in the distance. Bucky was more surprised than anyone that he was the one to break it. "We should probably call Sam," he heard himself say. "If he doesn't want to come, that's fine, but I think he'd appreciate the explosions."

"We should also ask Tony to make him a new flight suit at some point," Steve added. He smiled a little. "I think he'd like that."

Bucky glanced up at him. "Sam, or Tony?"

Steve's smile widened into a grin. "If Sam can put up with us, I think he can handle Tony."

Clint shook his head. "I disagree. You two are much less annoying than Stark."

"We should invite Sharon, too," Natasha said, voice thoughtful. "I've never gone on an official couple's vacation."

Steve raised an amused eyebrow at her. "Vacation?"

Clint shrugged. "As close as we ever get."

"Hopefully, there're a few bases in South America," Natasha said, sounding almost relaxed now. Hearing it, he realized that what had sounded easy and calm before hadn't really been at all.  "The prospect of seeing me in a swimsuit is the only bribe big enough to get Clint out into direct sunlight."

He remembered the bikini joke she'd made when they'd talked about the run-in she'd had with the Winter Soldier. "I feel like I should apologize again for shooting you."

"What are a few bullets between friends?" Her voice was warm, and he could hear a smile edge into it. "Besides, Clint likes me just fine in a one-piece."

"I'd prefer you in a no-piece," Clint added, right on cue.

"I've heard about nudist beaches," Steve said, clearly having done some thinking of his own. "They probably have some in South America." He grinned down at Bucky, lowering his voice. "I'd like seeing you in a no-piece."

Bucky felt himself grin back. "If you're in one, I won't be paying much attention to the beach."

Next to them, Natasha and Clint were still caught up in the travel plans. "We'll have to put the beach on our to-do list. I'm sure we'll have some free time in between explosions."

"Of course, the closest base could be in Cleveland," Clint said, less amused than he had been. "Or Canada." He sighed. "I'm not really thrilled with Canada."

"That's just because of that one time in Quebec. I think it's fairly safe to say that HYDRA doesn't have a French mime working undercover for them."

"I'm sure they do, just to spite me."

Bucky's smile lingered as they continued, the sound of their bickering already a familiar one. "We should probably stand up at some point," he said quietly, still listening for the sounds of any retaliation they might have missed. There probably wouldn't be any – if there'd been survivors, and if any of them had a death wish, they probably would have shown up by now – but it was never a bad idea to stay alert.

At least there wouldn't be any police officers to worry about. That was one advantage of destroying secret bases in the middle of the desert – they didn't like having neighbors.

"At some point," Steve said easily, tilting his head so it rested against Bucky's. "But right now I'm pretty happy just staying right where I am."

"Yeah." Bucky let his eyes drift closed, almost positive the nightmares wouldn't find him here. "Me, too."


	7. Possibilities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is soon after the Nevada mission.

There was something vaguely surreal about planning covert ops in a hotel room this nice, but when you invited Tony Stark to break into a secret facility with you there were certain things you just didn't argue with.

"If George Clooney's team gets the best, then so do we," Tony had explained, ushering everyone up to a suite bigger than Steve's entire D.C. apartment. "Besides, once we've wrapped up I'm going to try and talk Pepper into joining us for the weekend."

Right now, though, they were all business. The information they'd pulled from the Nevada facility suggested that the Argentina base focused on munitions development, channeling their less interesting toys to local drug kingpins in order to fund more research. That meant they had to be even more thorough when they took the place down, since even rubble could be re-engineered.

They'd put together a rough idea of the bases blueprints from the SHIELD-HYDRA files, and they were breaking down possible entrance and exit routes. Bucky was identifying the points where explosives would have the most impact, while Sharon, Sam and Steve worked on estimating and analyzing their manpower. Natasha and Clint were adding backup plans to their backup plans, as well as filling in details about security measures they might be facing, while Tony worked out a rough idea of the inventions HYDRA might have cooked up.

After awhile, Steve let himself just listen. He couldn't help remembering his days with the Commandos, plotting out missions on a wing and a prayer, but there was no ache to the memory. This ... wasn't the same, exactly. Nothing ever was.

But it was just as good.

"We should keep doing this," Steve heard himself say, and all conversation cut off while everyone stared at him. Most of them looked either confused or like he'd just said something painfully obvious, but Bucky had a watchful expression like he had some idea of what Steve was thinking.

Tony, unsurprisingly, was the one who spoke. "I thought that was the idea." He waved at the computer projection in front of them. "Aren't there like four more of these mentioned just in the data you pulled from Nevada?"

"That's not the end of HYDRA. And, as much as I hate to say it, HYDRA isn't the only thing wrong with the world." He could feel himself slide into what Bucky used to call his "Captain" voice. "Even if they do re-form SHIELD at some point, or create another organization, I'm not sure I trust them to know what battles to fight."

There were a few beats of perfect silence, but at least no one looked confused now. "You want to restart the Avengers Initiative," Natasha said quietly, expression blank.

Still, Steve knew her well enough to see the wariness in her eyes. "No. The Avengers Initiative was the biggest gun in SHIELD's arsenal. What they forgot is that we're not weapons." He met Bucky's gaze. "None of us."

Bucky have him a small nod, the same one that had always meant "I'm with you." Bolstered, he turned back to the rest of the group. "We have turned out to be a pretty good team, though."

He could see a cautious interest spark in most of their faces. Tony was the only exception – his eyes lit up like firecrackers, then he slammed down hard on it as if no one had noticed. "Getting the band back together?" he asked, trying to sound sarcastic.

"Looks like most of us are together already," Steve said, smiling a little. "Of course, we're bigger and better than we were, which means you might have to open up a few more floors of Avengers Tower at some point."

Tony looked faintly panicked as Clint turned to him in surprise. "Avengers Tower?"

"I changed the name of Stark Tower," Tony mumbled, waving a hand. If it had been anyone else, Steve would have said he looked embarrassed. "A marketing decision, that's all." He shot Steve an evaluating look, the corners of his mouth sneaking upward. "I'm guessing you want me to bankroll the thing, too."

"You could call it a tax write-off," Sam threw in, fighting a grin. "Charitable contributions."

Clint and Natasha turned to each other, a world of unspoken communication passing between them. Then he turned back to Steve with a raised eyebrow. "Is it really a good idea to be giving Tony the leash? One of us should probably be holding his."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "I thought Natasha was your—"

"Enough," Steve said firmly, cutting them both off. "And no one's holding anyone's leash. We all decide the missions we take, just like we're doing now. We're the ones who decide how to carry out the missions."

"Together," Bucky finished Steve's thought, a smile in his eyes. Steve's chest tightened.

Everyone else looked back and forth at each other, clearly weighing the prospect. Slowly, Sharon raised a hand. "Is this a job offer for those of us who weren't in New York?"

"I'd like it to be," Steve said, meeting Tony's eyes. "It depends on who else says yes."

"I'm not sure you'll want me to say yes if you actually think it through," Natasha said, voice a little too careful. "In case you've forgotten, the government is even less fond of me than they are the rest of you."

Tony shrugged, a slow grin spreading across his face. "I've always enjoyed ticking off the suits in D.C."

"Everyone's welcome, including Bruce and Thor," Steve said, knowing that Tony had just confirmed he was in. Between the two of them, he was confident they could get everyone else onboard. "But none of us have to decide now. I just wanted you to think about it."

For just a moment, no one spoke. Then Sam looked over at Bucky with an amused expression. "He secretly practices these inspiring speeches in the bathroom, doesn't he?"

Bucky nodded, faking a perfectly serious expression. "You should hear the one he does when he catches me littering."

Everyone laughed. Steve joined in, hearing the sound of his future.


	8. The Scientific Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably during the same trip as Bucky's arm surgery.

The Winter Soldier had never been to the heart of a volcano, which meant Bucky could enjoy it in peace.

Admittedly, it wasn't a real volcano, just a holographic projection that was supposed to make visitors to the New York Science Center feel like they were in the middle of one as it erupted. The narration explained everything as it was happening, intricacies of temperature and pressure that were miles ahead of anything they'd taught when he was back in school all those years ago. He was fascinated.

When he was a kid, it had been machines that had drawn his attention the most. He'd done well in all his subjects, at least as far as he could remember, but the things you could do with gears and engines had been what really caught his imagination. It wasn't the same now - robots had lost their shine since he'd gotten the arm, and there had been too much blood and screaming for him to dream about the future anymore.

But machines, too, had been about temperature and pressure. It felt good to have some of that old curiosity rise up inside him again, for something that wasn't quite so ... tainted. They probably had more about it on the Inter-

The thought cut off when the holographic lava shot up around him, a rush of sound loud enough that they actually had a warning on the outside of the exhibit. Bucky had read it, prepped himself for it going in, and yet when the sound came he flinched as if it was a complete surprise. Cursing himself for being distracted, he grabbed Steve's hand instead of the knife. Steve squeezed back, and they stood there together like that until the narration came to an end and the display faded.

When it was quiet again, Bucky let out a breath. "Sorry about that."

The corner of Steve's mouth quirked upward. "We'll never train each other out of apologizing when we don't need to, will we?"

Bucky felt something inside him ease. "Probably not." His grip relaxed, but he didn't let go. "Of course, you never listened to me anyway."

"I always listened to you, Buck. Just didn't always do what you wanted me to." His voice was as light as the gentle tug on Bucky's hand, a silent suggestion that it was probably about time they left the exhibit. "Now, though, I'm yours to command. What do you want to do next?"

They stepped out into the museum's central hub, and Bucky caught sight of an exhibit about time zones that showed how late it was. Annoyed again that he'd let himself get caught up, it was his turn to tug Steve towards the exit. "What we _should_ be doing is leaving. We said we'd spend half the day at the science center and half the day at the museum, so you can see the Rembrandt paintings you're so excited about."

Steve, however, dug in his heels and refused to move. "The map says there's an exhibit about the formation of stars the next wing over. It goes through their whole life cycle."

Bucky tried to bank the surge of interest he felt at the concept, knowing what Steve was trying to do. There was awhile there where he needed to be taken care of, but he was mostly back together now and it was his turn to start taking care of Steve again. "I have heard you yammering about this Rembrandt thing for a solid week now. Even _I_ remember how crazy you were about his sketches when we were kids, and you said yourself you went nuts for the paintings ever since you started being able to see them in color."

"I can see them tomorrow. Or next week – the show's open until the end of the month." Steve was actually using his cajoling voice now, as if staying in the science center would somehow be a favor to _him_. "Come on. I want to hear more about black holes."

"You do not." Bucky watched Steve's face, suddenly wondering if he was missing something. "You haven't even looked at half the exhibits we've stopped at. You're probably bored to tears."

Steve cleared his throat, looking faintly embarrassed. "You ... ah, you noticed that?"

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "One, I am a trained sniper. Two, I have been staring at you for _years_. Even when I didn't remember half the words, I could still read you like a book. Three, you were standing _right next to me_. So yeah, I noticed."

Oddly enough, that made the embarrassment disappear. If anything, he looked almost surprised now. "You really are good at reading me," he said, sounding genuinely curious. "So why on earth did you think I was _bored_?"

Bucky's eyes narrowed. "Like I said, you were barely looking at the exhibits. I know you when you're interested in something – you can't take your eyes off...." The words trailed off as his brain tracked through all those little memories of watching Steve force his eyes back to the exhibits. From the way his head had been turned, it seemed like he'd been staring at ....

"You," Steve said softly, finishing the unspoken thought. A little of the embarrassment crept back into his face. "You'd get this look on your face as you were watching the exhibits, like we were kids again and the teacher was making something bubble. The last time I saw that look—" He cut himself off, looking sad for just a moment. "The last time I saw that look was when you were watching Howard's flying car, the night before you shipped off, but back then I was too dumb to appreciate it."

Bucky's chest caught. His strongest memory of that night had been worrying about Steve.

"When we were younger, it seemed like I spent my whole life trying not to stare at you." He stepped closer, eyes wide and earnest as he stroked his thumb over the back of Bucky's knuckles. "I was an idiot."

Bucky had to clear his throat before he could trust his voice to work. "I'm not going to argue with that."

Steve chuckled, then lifted their joined hands to his lips. "Let's stay, please. Let me watch you be happy."

There was no acceptable response to that but to kiss him, wrapping his metal fingers in Steve's t-shirt and pulling him close. Steve grinned against his mouth, knowing he'd won, then opened up to let him in with a warm, sweet slide of lips and tongue.

When they broke apart, Bucky's eyes were stinging. "We're going to the Rembrandt show tomorrow," he said finally. "The whole damn day."

Steve pressed a kiss against his cheek. "Yes, sir."


	9. Whisper of Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set between chapters 8 and 9 of "Home Is Where You Are."

They were crossing the border into Illinois when Bucky clicked off the radio. "My mom," he said after a moment, voice hesitant. "Was she pretty?"

Steve's throat tightened. He knew how much it had bothered Bucky that he hadn't gotten anything about his family yet. Steve was happy to tell a thousand stories, but it just wasn't the same. "Yeah." He glanced over at Bucky. "Almost as pretty as my mom."

The corner of Bucky's mouth ghosted upward, just like Steve had hoped, but when he spoke again his voice was serious. "But she hated how much of her hair was white." Another glance showed the utter concentration on Bucky's face. Steve held his breath. "Her ... sister, I think, didn't have as much."

"Your aunt Lucy," Steve said carefully, trying hard not to let himself hope. He wanted Bucky to have his family back so badly, even if it was just in his memories, but he had no idea what this was like for Bucky. Having little bits of them might be even more painful. "Your mom used to say that it was because Lucy didn't have kids, which meant that the white hair was yours and Rebecca's fault." There was an ache in his chest, sharp and sweet. "She smiled as she said it, though."

He didn't realize what he'd done until he heard Bucky inhale sharply. "My sister."

Steve winced, glancing back over at Bucky. "Yeah. She was about four years older than you were."

There was only silence from the other side of the cab, and Steve kicked himself for reminding Bucky of just how much he'd lost. Then he heard Bucky's quiet voice. "She kind of looked like me, right? Had my mouth, and maybe my eyebrows, and dark hair in these little waves close to the side of her head."

"Only when she went out." Finding a safe spot on the side of the road, Steve pulled over so he could turn to Bucky. "Neither of our moms ever wore much makeup, but I watched Becca put hers on once or twice." His voice was soft, gentle with a memory that was almost as precious to him as he hoped it might be to Bucky. "It was like watching someone painting."

 Bucky stared hard at him for a second, something hungry in his eyes, then he closed them and scrubbed a hand across his face. "You don't have to do this," he said finally, gaze flickering away from Steve. "I'm not going to burst into tears or anything."

"Come on, we both know I'm obviously the crier in this relationship," Steve joked, reaching over and taking Bucky's hand in his. "I wasn't worried, Buck. I just want to be able to focus on important things when they're happening."

Bucky didn't say anything, but he squeezed Steve's hand hard enough that it might have bruised anyone else. Steve squeezed back, just as hard, and eventually he could feel the tension in Bucky's fingers start to relax. "I can see her," he whispered, then made a sound caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "She looks mad enough to spit."

Steve smiled, his own throat tight. "We tried to follow her on a date once, when you decided the guy she was going out with was bad news." He could still remember sneaking down the alleyway, thrilled that for once it was Bucky who was doing something risky and determined to help him play hero. Steve got so few chances to watch his back. "When Becca caught us, she was mad enough to skin us alive."

Bucky's lips curved upward, just a little. His eyes were wet. "She taught me how to fight."

"Made you swear not to tell your mom." Steve traced his thumb over Bucky's knuckles, his smile widening even as his own eyes stung. "She didn't do anything to us that night, though. The guy she was with tried to take a swing at us, and she got so mad at _him_ she clocked him one." He let out a breath. "Then she walked us home."

For a single, wonderful second, Bucky's smile widened. Then he closed his eyes, the tears spilling over. "That's all I can remember." Steve could hear the anger build with every word, knew that it was turned inward. "This is my _family_ , and I can barely remember more than their _prokljátyj_ faces."

Steve dragged him close, wrapping his arms around Bucky as tight as they would go. "They'll come," he murmured against Bucky's hair. "You're brain's got a lot to do, putting itself back together. The memories'll come."

"You can't promise me that." The words were almost a growl, but he still held onto Steve more tightly.

"Your heart knows." Steve put every ounce of dedication he felt into the words, rubbing a soothing hand along Bucky's back. "It remembered me. It'll remember more about your family."

For a moment, they just held each other in the silence. Then Bucky let out a shaky breath. "I wish  I could be as sure as you are."

He pressed a kiss against Bucky's hair. "Well, you're just going to have to learn how right I am, aren't you?"

Bucky didn't say anything, but Steve could feel him smile against his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like my rationale for making Becca older, you can find it [here.](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com/post/94769499366/bucky-question) If you want to check out my blog (complete with original short fiction) you can do that [here,](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) and if you want to say hi on Tumblr you can do that [here](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


	10. Poolside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, I've started on the fourth story in this series, ["Sparring Partners."](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2287499/chapters/5028905) Unlike this one, it will be more of a continuous, in-order narrative like "Home Is Where You Are." 
> 
> Oh, and this one-shot is set after the Argentina mission mentioned in chapter 7.

It was only after they'd taken down the base in Argentina that they'd realized a crowded public beach might not be the best next step. They had no idea if any HYDRA agents had escaped, or already been sent out into the field, and the beachside hotels offered too many sight lines for snipers and too many opportunities to risk innocents. Bucky, who hadn't exactly been looking forward to the crush of people, was careful not to say anything.

That didn't mean, however, that water was out of the question. Tony was in the process of buying a private beach – or, more accurately, Pepper had set Tony's financial manager on it – and until then he'd thrown enough cash at the hotel manager to buy private, 24-hour access to the hotel pool.

It was well past midnight now, the lights of the pool not enough to dim the starscape of city lights spread out beneath them. Bucky and Pepper were probably the only ones who noticed, since the rest of the team was in the water cheating their way through a game of tag.

Even Bucky could admit that the game was a lot more interesting than the lights – all of the players were trained fighters, all completely shameless about using their skills.  Then there was Tony, who kept trying to pants people instead of tagging them, a run that ended only when everyone else ganged up to attack him at once.

Bucky was watching from the opposite edge of the pool, sweatpants rolled up and legs dangling in the water. Tony had offered to a buy him a suit from the gift shop downstairs, and Bucky new no one would pressure him about taking off his t-shirt, but he was happy where he was. Steve looked like he was about 12, laughing like a goofball and not worried about anything in the world, and if Bucky was over there trying not to get drowned he’d be too distracted to enjoy the view properly.

A happy Steve had always been one of his favorite sights.

Now wasn't exactly the ideal time to admit something that sappy, though, which meant that Steve kept checking on him. With Natasha still on his back – neither of them seemed bothered by the fact that she had him in a chokehold – he turned to Bucky for the third or fourth time since they’d come up here. "Buck, come _on_ ," he tried, gesturing to Natasha. “I need some backup here.”

"Are you sure that’s a good idea?" Bucky felt his lips curve upward into a slow grin as he shook his head. “For all you know, we might end up tag teaming against you.”

Over Steve’s shoulder, Natasha grinned at him. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” With that she flipped both her and Steve into the water, splashing everyone else both when they went down and came up spluttering a second later. Steve glanced over at him, one more time, but when Bucky waved him on he officially rejoined the game.  

Which, apparently, meant that it was Tony's turn. He gave Clint an elbow jab – not to the side where he had bruised ribs, Bucky noticed – then turned around and ducked behind Sharon for cover. "Pepper—"

"No." Her voice came from behind Bucky, the safely dry area where sunbathers stretched out on the hotel’s deck chairs during daylight hours. Her distracted tone suggested that she hadn't bothered looking up from whatever work she'd been doing on her tablet.

"I'll—"

"I'm the one with the room key, Tony."

Bucky glanced back at her, not at all surprised to see her lips curve upward just a little. When he turned back to Tony, the other man was grinning. "I'll stop bugging you if we can play secretary later. I'm getting _so_ much better at taking dictation."

"Sharon," Pepper asked, sounding amused. "Would you be so kind as to drown him for me?"

"I'll do it," Clint called, taking out both Tony and Sharon with a flying tackle.

The game continued on, more a wrestling match than tag by this point. Bucky cheered various people on, deciding it was probably for the best that he hadn't joined in, when he sensed Pepper moving toward him. She sat down next to him at the edge of the pool, letting her legs dangle in the water just like his. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all." Bucky could hear the ghost of his old, cocky gallantry in the words, but it no longer made him sad. "We can protect each other in case Steve and Tony get more serious about wanting us to join in."

She smiled at that, but it didn't last long. "Tony told me about the plan to re-start the Avengers," she said finally, voice quiet.

Bucky let out a breath, understanding what she wasn't saying. He remembered sitting in that bar the night they formed the commandos, sure that neither he or Steve would make it back to Brooklyn. "It's just an idea at this point," he told her, his own voice equally low. "Even if it happens, there's no reason Tony would have to go out into the field."

"He'll want to, though." The words were a sigh Bucky understood down to the depths of his soul. Her eyes drifted back to the chaos on the other end of the pool, finding Tony as easily as Bucky always found Steve. "He spends all his free time building things, trying to bleed off some of his restlessness, but even I can see it's not really working."

Bucky watched her face, wishing he had some of his old ability with words back. But really, there was no comfort for something like this – no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't keep them safe if they wouldn't let you. "I can beat him up for you, if you want."

That startled a laugh out of her, slightly edged but still genuine-sounding. "I'm not sure that would really help," she said finally, voice a little easier than it had been.

Hesitantly, he covered her hand with his. "Tony knows you're worth coming home for," he said quietly. "He'll be more careful."

Pepper turned, studying Bucky as closely as he once had her. "Is Steve?" She sounded genuinely curious.

Bucky considered it, comparing the takedown of the two HYDRA bases to his patchwork of memories from before he went under. "So far." He caught himself as the words slipped out, wincing. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I came to you with this because I thought you’d have the best chance of understanding." She nudged him a little, a friendly gesture. "Natasha tells me stories about Steve."

Bucky closed his eyes with a groan. Nat had already told him about Steve jumping out of planes without a parachute. "Don't tell me. I don't want to know."

"Believe me, I understand completely." There was humor in her voice, but a moment later it faded into thoughtfulness. "Is it less terrifying, being out there with him? Knowing you can do something to protect him if the worst happens?"

Bucky didn't say anything for a moment, his eyes finding Steve in the tangle. He could remember the train clear as day, and from the sound of the nightmares Steve still occasionally had Bucky knew that he did, too. "Not really," he admitted finally, voice soft. "You're always afraid you'll be just a little too far away."

Pepper closed her eyes at that. "Keep him safe for me," she whispered.

Bucky squeezed her hand. "I will."

Suddenly, Tony's voice cut through the general sounds of chaos. "Hey, stop trying to steal my girl."

Pepper opened her eyes. "He's already managed it," she called back. "We're running away to Antigua together."

Now Steve joined in. "Bucky isn't going anywhere without me."

Pepper shrugged. "Fine. I'm stealing both of them."

Tony made the "I'll be watching you” gesture at both Steve and Bucky. "Fisticuffs at dawn. Both of you."

Bucky held up his metal arm. "Seriously?"

"Okay, both of you and Iron Man. Fisticuffs at dawn."

This time, Sam tackled him. Everyone else applauded.


	11. Old Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably set after Bruce and Tony work on Bucky’s arm.

Natasha had shown Steve Netflix back in D.C., but it wasn’t until Bucky was back that he’d really started to enjoy it. There were so many movies they’d both missed, and watching Bucky get excited about a new one was almost better than getting excited about it himself. Even the terrible ones were better when they could complain about them together.

Honestly, though, everything was better with Bucky. Rain. Heat. The subway. Traffic jams. Getting punched in the face by HYDRA. It had been months, and Steve had yet to find something about his life that wasn’t immeasurably more enjoyable or easier to deal with because of the man currently sprawled out on the couch next to him. He’d started keeping a list.

Now, though, their focus was on Steve’s original to-do list, one that had gotten quite a bit longer ever since people started making suggestions for Bucky as well. Every time they worked their way through one of the entries, someone came along and suggested three more things.

“Question.” Bucky’s voice was light as he scrolled through the list of movies. They’d just finished “Ladyhawke” – Clint’s suggestion – but weren’t ready to try and go to sleep just yet. “Do we actually admit we liked the movie, or just make bird jokes until he forgets to ask our opinion?”

Steve smiled as he scratched the title off the list. “You know he’ll just retaliate with old man jokes until we’re suffering far more than he is.”

Bucky made an amused sound. “True.” Then the silence changed, becoming something much deeper than it had been, and when he spoke again his voice was serious. “Are you going to get old, though? I don’t remember that I ever dared ask you that, back in the old days.”

Steve went still at that, then glanced up at Bucky. His expression wasn’t quite blank, but he kept his eyes on the screen like he was afraid of looking down. “They think so,” Steve said finally, his eyes still on Bucky. “SHIELD ran a bunch of tests, just after I woke up from the ice. It’ll probably be a lot slower than everyone else, but at some point my cells will wear out to the point that even the serum won’t be able to bring them back completely.”

When they’d first told him, back in those cold, grey weeks when he’d hated everything about the future, it seemed like one more terrible piece of news piled up on top of the others. Back then, more time stuck being alive had been the last thing he’d wanted.

Now, though, it didn’t seem quite so bad. “The same’s probably true for you,” Steve added. “Even if it’s not quite the same, your version of the serum is clearly just as strong as mine is.”

Bucky let out a breath. “Still, I should probably talk to Bruce.” He shifted slightly, pressing his cheek against the top of Steve’s head. “Make sure.”

Steve’s chest squeezed tight, and he threaded his fingers through Bucky’s metal ones. "Planning on growing old with me, Buck?" he asked softly.

Bucky tightened his fingers around Steve’s, voice warming back up. "If you don't crash another plane first."

Steve smiled, certain he would be getting flack about going down with the plane for the rest of their lives together. He was almost looking forward to it. "Stay with me and I won't be tempted to." His mind drifted, sketching out pictures of the future like it hadn’t done since they were kids. "We could get a little house somewhere, with a garden."

“We’re city boys, Steve.” The words were affectionate. “I barely know which end of the shovel should point down.”

It was an exaggeration, but Bucky had a point. “Okay, scratch that. Instead, we’ll get a motor home and go on one long trip from Canada all the way to South America. We could get matching little old man sweaters, and complain about the prices on all the diner menus."

"Don't mention that to Natasha. She'll gets us those sweaters now." When Steve looked up again, there was a little smile on his face. "You'll insist on driving, of course, while I complain that you're going the wrong way because you wouldn’t stop and ask for directions. You won't listen, and when I yell at you about it all the little old ladies will give me sympathetic looks."

"Oh, everyone will be giving you sympathetic looks, but that’s just because half of them will be flirting with you." Steve could see it all so clearly he could almost draw it, but he was having too much fun to even think about stopping. “Looking for husband number three to take back home to the senior citizens center.”

Bucky grinned. "That’s only because they tried flirting with you and you didn’t notice.”  

"Not a chance.” Steve grinned back at him. “I'll be so obviously, ridiculously in love that no one would even consider trying to flirt with me. Just looking at me will be enough to make teenagers roll their eyes in sheer embarrassment.”

Bucky’s expression went soft, thumb tracing lightly along Steve’s skin. “You sound pretty excited about giving random teenagers sugar shock.”

“I am.” He lifted Bucky’s hand, pressing a kiss against the back of it. “I forgot what it was like to have things to look forward to.”

Bucky pulled Steve close for a more thorough kiss, messy and sweet. When they broke apart, his eyes were alight. “You really are the world’s biggest sap,” he murmured.

Steve smiled as his lips found Bucky’s again. “Only for you.”


	12. Gray Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is set after "Sending Out A Message."

Sometimes, the gray still took him.

Things were so good. Amazingly good. He had Steve back in his life, solid and real and damn near insistent on giving Bucky all the love a man could hope for. The sap was even determined to marry him, damn it, and always looked so happy every time he talked about it. Like marrying a washed up assassin was the greatest thing he can think of. The old him, the one that grew up in Brooklyn and sometimes felt like he slept under Bucky’s skin, would have cried.

(Given the memories he’d pieced together, the old him didn’t like crying any more than he did. But it still would have happened.)

He had friends now, too. Sam called all the time, always threatening to move up to New York for good so he could harass him in person. Clint was another good person to talk to, whether it was about serious stuff or who could pop the balloon with a dart while blindfolded and hanging upside down. He and Natasha didn’t even have to speak, but the silence between them felt deep and peaceful in a way few things did. And that didn’t include Tony, Pepper, Bruce, or any of the other people who’d somehow worked their way into the circle of people he trusted.

He had everything. But it didn’t stop the gray that took him sometimes, like there was a weight on him dragging down every movement he made. Some days, just getting out of bed felt like an effort.

Sam told him it was okay. He knew the gray, had dealt with it himself plenty of mornings. It didn’t mean you weren’t happy, or grateful, or anything else. It was just something that people had to deal with sometimes, and if it got worse there were people he could talk to. But it was normal, and it definitely didn’t mean there was anything wrong with him.

As for Steve … well, they never really talked about it.  They didn’t need to.

000

When Bucky got back to the bedroom, he realized that Steve was still standing in front of the closet. Someone who didn’t know him might think he was trying to decide what to wear, but Steve mostly didn’t care. He wore his uniform for meet-and-greets, a button-down for interviews, and t-shirts for almost everything else.

Besides, Bucky knew the look on Steve’s face almost better than he did his own. He still wasn’t fond of mirrors, overall, but he’d watched Steve’s expressions through the best and worst moments of their lives. This one – the slight downturn at the corners of his mouth, the faraway gaze – wasn’t good.

“You okay?” Bucky asked quietly.

Steve blinked, startled, then tried to smile at him. There was nothing haunted about it – they were both too familiar with that look on the other person, too – but it was too tired for a man who’d only woken up a little while ago. Especially because Bucky didn’t think last night had been a nightmare night. “Fine.” Steve scrubbed a hand across his face, like he always did when he was trying to wake himself up. “Just a slow start this morning.”

Sure it was. Bucky watched him for another moment, then nodded decisively. “Today’s definitely an inside day.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “I can’t, Buck.” His tone was the same one he always used when he tried to say he wasn’t bleeding. “I said I’d do an interview with this woman from the Bugle in a few hours, then I’ve got a hospital visit in midtown.”

Bucky folded his arms across his chest, a deliberate mimicry of Steve’s “Captain America” pose that always got his attention. “JARVIS can call and reschedule your appointment with the reporter, and I’ll hunt Tony down and ask him to fill in for you on the hospital visit.”

“I am retrieving Ms. Brant’s contact information now, and will tell you that Mr. Stark is currently in his lab attempting to engineer a blender capable of shredding metal,” JARVIS cut in. “Given the amount of swearing that has occurred over the last hour or so, I believe he would welcome a respite.”

“See?” Bucky gestured upward. “Problem solved.”

Steve, however, still had his brow furrowed. “Thank you, Buck, but there’s no reason to bother all those people just because—“

“Steve.” Bucky’s voice was soft. “What do you always say when I’m standing where you are, and you’re standing where I am?”

Because Steve could always tell, just the same way Bucky could. And though neither of them were very good at being gentle with themselves, they’d always been good at taking care of each other. Battle wounds, nightmares, gray days – it didn’t matter.

Of course, neither of them were very good at being taken care of. Luckily, they were also pretty bad at saying “no” to each other.

After a moment, something relaxed in Steve’s face. “Okay.” His lips curved upward just a little. “You win. I’ll take it easy.”

“Good.” Bucky smiled back at him. “Movie day or reading day?”

“Reading.” Steve’s expression went solemn again. “You don’t have to stay, you know,” he said quietly. “Just because I’m out of commission for a little while doesn’t mean you need to be.”

Bucky considered this. “Looking for some alone time?” he asked, not offended. Sometimes, it was what you needed during the bad times. The fact that you knew it wasn’t permanent was what made all the difference in the world.

“No.” Steve’s answer was immediate. “Definitely not.”

Bucky lifted a shoulder. “Then I’m happy right where I am.”

Steve hesitated, as if he wanted to say something else. Bucky would bet money he knew what it was – something about not wanting Bucky to feel obligated, or that he was holding Bucky back, or one of the thousand variations of “I’m sorry” they’d cooked up between them. Bucky always had those exact same thoughts, during the gray times, and for the first little while they’d both said them to the other. By this point, they knew the answer to each and every one of them.

It didn’t stop the urge to ask, sometimes. But it helped.

Finally, Steve let out a breath. “Thank you,” he said softly, moving close enough to wrap his arms around him.

Bucky hugged him back. “Anytime.”


	13. Play Dates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set after my ["From the Outside In,"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3836572/chapters/8560828) which is basically my highly revisionist version of "Age of Ultron."

Steve was curled up on the couch, sketching the view of the city from the windows of Avengers Tower, when Bucky flopped down next to him. “You have a date tomorrow night.” 

Steve blinked, briefly swamped by the memory of Bucky sweeping in to their little apartment with exactly the same announcement before one of their “double” dates. He shook it off. “With you?”

“No, with Pepper." Bucky lightly squeezed Steve's knee with his metal hand. "There’s an opening gala for the new Matisse exhibit, and with all the meetings she’s got lined up for the next few weeks it’s her only chance to actually go see the art. You’ll have to get dressed up, but she promises no dancing if you’re willing to sneak off and nerd out over the exhibit with her.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. He liked Matisse, and he liked Pepper, so he was completely fine with the idea from his end. He didn’t really like the suit, but with her schedule it made sense that she couldn’t go during the day. “That’s fine, but why isn’t she the one asking me?”

Bucky gave him a sharp look. “She had somehow gotten it into her head that she’d be imposing on our alone time by stealing you away.”

There was a very definite note of ‘don’t be an idiot’ in his voice, and Steve opened his mouth to defend himself. It wasn’t like he’d gone around announcing that to—

Then he winced, remembering. “She _may_ have offered to let me use her extra ticket for a MOMA After Dark a month or so ago, but then you suggested a movie night.” It had been no contest – when Bucky was involved, it never was – but he hated the thought that he’d somehow hurt Pepper’s feelings.

Bucky sighed dramatically. “’Extra ticket,’” he muttered, shaking his head. “I feel an intense amount of retroactive sympathy for Peggy right now. You really have no idea when it comes to women.”

“Hey.” Steve gave him a nudge. “That’s what she _said_ it was.”

Bucky made an exasperated noise. “Because she didn’t want you to feel obligated to take it. You two don’t get much of a chance to hang out, and it takes practice not to accidentally activate your Boy Scout button.” He waved his other hand. “So I’m helping her avoid all that by accepting for you. I _also_ accepted for Hill, who said you have yet to keep your promise to take her to a baseball game and show her, and I quote, ‘the poetry of the sport.’” He raised an eyebrow, expression amused. “’Poetry,’ really?”

Steven mimicked his expression. “First, there is literally a famous poem that's been written about baseball, so clearly I'm not the only one that agrees about the poetry. Second, she watches _football_ , Buck."

Bucky chuckled. “Fair enough. You two can work out the details when we’re all here helping Sam move into the tower, though I’m sure he’s going to want to steal you away, too. He swears he’s going to musically educate you whether you like it or not.” He paused. "And no throwing me to the wolves. Clint's already trying enough for two people, and I've run out of ways to politely avoid telling people they have terrible taste in music."

Steve watched Bucky's face, wondering where this was coming from. He thought he'd been pretty good about making sure Bucky had the space he needed, but it was possible he hadn't been watching himself closely enough. “Are you needing more alone time? Because I can do that – you don’t have to keep giving me play dates.”

Bucky's expression turned serious. "Not everything is about me, Steve. It should be about you sometimes, too."

Steve blinked, confused. "You pay me plenty of attention."

Bucky smiled a little, but his eyes were still solemn as he shifted to face Steve more fully. "Like I said, it shouldn't be all about me," he said softly. "Steve Rogers is an amazing guy, and he should have more in his life than just me and Captain America."

Their conversation they’d had after taking down that last HYDRA base came back to him. They’d accidentally gotten caught up in one of Wanda’s hallucinations, and he’d been left in a world without Bucky again. _I was just trying to figure out whether I don't know how to be Steve Rogers without you, or if it's just too hard for me to want to try._ “Bucky….”

“No.” Bucky's voice was firm. “The only time you intentionally spend without me is when you’re sparring with Natasha. Even when Sam comes up, it’s always the three of us.”

“Sam's your friend, too," Steve shot back.

“He is, and don’t think I’m handing him over to you completely." Bucky's expression was gentle. "But you deserve some things that are just yours.”

Steve had spent years learning what it was like having things without Bucky. The thought of trying to go back to that, even with friends like Pepper and Maria, made something in his chest lurch. "I have you, and Captain America lets me protect people. I don't need anything more than that."

Bucky went still, making it clear he'd heard the thread of panic Steve had tried so hard to hide. "You really don't want to go to this art thing with Pepper?" he asked carefully.

Embarrassed, Steve scrubbed a hand over his face. He felt like a scrawny teenager again, shaking and fragile. "No, it's ... it's not that. I like Pepper, and I like Maria. I wouldn't mind spending time with them. It's just ..." He let out a breath, throat tight. "I was miserable without you, Buck."

"Hey." Bucky put gentle fingers on Steve's jaw, turning his head to look at him. "You still have me. If I have any say in the matter, you'll always still have me." He gave Steve a quick, fierce kiss, then locked eyes with him again. "That's not going to change if you go nerd out over art with Pepper, or educate Hill on her terrible taste in sports. I'll be right here, watching Nat kick Pietro's super-speedy ass at Mario Kart and laughing about it."

Steve let himself smile a little, knowing that was Bucky's goal. "It's more fun when she beats Tony."

Bucky smiled back. "He won't play her anymore. Clint and I have been talking up how inexperienced Wanda is at the gaming system, and how she needs someone to 'show her the ropes.'"

Steve paused at that. "Didn't Wanda nearly beat Nat the one time they played?"

Bucky's smile turned into a smirk. "Exactly."

Steve chuckled. "I want to be there for that one." Then he closed his eyes, something in his chest easing as he leaned his forehead against Bucky's. "I did hear some good things about the Matisse show," he said quietly.

"So did Pepper, it turns out. The only reason I understood half of it was because I've been listening to you go on about artsy stuff for years." His voice was warm with humor and affection. "So you should go, nerd out together, then come home and tell me all about it."

Steve pulled away, nodding as he opened his eyes. "Okay." He stole another quick kiss. "You'd better be here, though."

Steve tried to pretend it was a joke, and Bucky grinned in response. His eyes, though, made it clear he knew how serious it was. "Hey, I already told you. You're stuck with me for life."  

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my weekly posts and original short fiction on my [blog](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


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